Waking Evil

by Brant, Kylie

  “Ramsey.” There was a note in his voice she didn’t recognize. When she looked up, she saw it mirrored in his face. Determination. “Do you really think I’m goin’ to let you ride on out of here like the Lone Ranger while I hide under the bed in the meantime?”

  She knew better than to tell him that was exactly what she hoped for. “He said there were others,” she repeated her argument, hoping he’d find it more convincing this time around. “There’s no way to be sure who they are. Where they are. I know at least one of his deputies is in on this. With no way of being sure whether I can trust his officers or even the local police, we’re seriously fucked until Powell gets TBI reinforcements to town.”

  He was watching her steadily. “So get to the part that makes me likely to let you walk out of here to hunt down Mark on your own.”

  “You’re not armed. You’re not trained.” She dropped her gaze because it was easier to revert to the professional she was when she wasn’t looking at him. “He can use you against me, Dev.” It took more courage than it should have to admit that. “He’s got to know we’ve spent time together. If he can get to you, he gets to me. I can’t take that chance.”

  Because she wasn’t looking at him, she was shocked by the brush of his swollen lips against her forehead. “I know what that cost you. But you have no idea what it would cost me to let you walk out that door alone. So the answer is still no.”

  Furious, her gaze snapped to his. And when she saw the steely light in his eyes, she knew further argument was futile.

  “Mark loves me like a brother.” There was a catch in his voice, but his expression remained determined. “He’ll hesitate before hurting me. If push comes to shove, that hesitation might give you the second we need.”

  His argument sucked. He’d still be in danger. But short of binding and gagging him and hauling him to the basement—an idea that had merit—she couldn’t figure out a way to get out of here without him.

  “There’s no way you’re leavin’ without me.” His words mirrored her thoughts. “I’d just follow you anyway. Besides . . .” His grin was lopsided. “Two of us stand a better chance than one, right?”

  She heaved out a breath and accepted the inevitable. Hoped like hell she wasn’t making a mistake she’d regret the rest of her life. Dropping extra shotgun shells in her jacket pocket, she headed for the door.

  “For Godsakes,” she threw over her shoulder grimly, “try to keep your head down.”

  “Explain to me again what we’re doin’ here.”

  Ramsey dropped lightly down to the ground from the gate she’d scaled at the Buffalo Springs cemetery. She accepted the shotgun Dev handed her through the bars and waited for him to join her.

  Her ears sharpened at the sound of pain he made when he landed. “Are you sure you’re all right?” She’d cleaned up his face as best she could, relieved to discover nothing in need of stitching. Then he’d done the same for her. But it was the bruises on his chest that had her worried. She wasn’t convinced nothing had been broken.

  “I’m dandy.” The words sounded as though they were gritted through his teeth. But by the time she’d moved to his side, he’d picked up the bag of tools he’d brought and was striding away, leaving her no choice but to follow.

  “Rollins mentioned that Ashton’s secrets were buried with him. I got to thinking he might be talking about Ruth’s missing record. While we’re waiting for backup, we may as well check it out.”

  The inky darkness of the cemetery, with its looming tombstones and eerie shadows, had little effect on her. It wasn’t the woods. And she wasn’t helpless, waiting for a madman’s return.

  “The Ashton mausoleum is in the back corner in the oldest section. This way.”

  Silently they crossed the quiet space. Dark clouds scudded across the sky, blotting out all but occasional glimpses of the moon. When there was a glimmer of illumination, it turned the branches of the old oaks into skeletal fingers.

  There was more than one mausoleum in the area, she noted, but Dev seemed to know which one to go to. When occasional headlights would spear the darkness on the road beyond, they took cover, waiting for the vehicle to go by. It always did.

  Where was Rollins? The question burned across her mind. How long after they’d left the woods had he returned to find her gone? He’d have known she’d had help escaping. Even she could admit now, away from the hope inspired by panic, that there had been little chance of her freeing herself on her own. He might think a poacher came across her. Or maybe even Ezra T.

  But he probably realized her rescuer was Dev.

  A fist clenched in her belly. If she encountered Rollins tonight and Dev got in the middle of it, she’d never forgive herself. If she’d struck out on her own, and the sheriff grabbed up Dev to flush her out . . . She sighed. She’d never forgive that, either. They’d been sitting ducks at his grandfather’s house. And anywhere else they’d have tried to hide would have drawn more people into danger.

  She’d had few choices. And with over two hours, minimum, before Knoxville agents could get here, she couldn’t be sure what Rollins might be driven to do.

  Because she wasn’t paying attention, she nearly plowed into Dev’s back when he halted. He was holding out his cell, which was still vibrating in his palm. “For you.”

  She snatched it up to answer. There’d been little choice but to give Powell his number with her phone destroyed.

  The agent didn’t waste time with preliminaries. “I’ve got state police hittin’ town as we speak. They’ll spread out, lookin’ for Rollins. They’ve been informed to trust no one on the local level in the search. Where are you?”

  “Chasing down a lead.”

  “For Godsakes, Ramsey, don’t be a damned hero.” The man’s voice was stern. “You’re Rollins’s likeliest target. Get somewhere safe and stay out of sight until we get reinforcements there.”

  “I’ll do that,” she said drily. Flipping the phone shut, she slipped it in her pocket rather than giving it back to Dev.

  “That TBI?” They started moving again.

  “Yeah.” The state police might be here, but they wouldn’t find the sheriff. She was certain of that. If she had to guess, he’d be taking shelter in the same place where Cassie Frost had been killed. And the other victim he’d alluded to earlier. They’d need a door-to-door search, which would take extra manpower and a whole lot of time to accomplish. She could only hope he didn’t slip out of town in the meantime.

  “Here we are.” Dev stopped before a small dark building. When he played the light over its front, the first thing she noticed was Ashton in faint, aged letters. The second thing she observed was the padlock on the door.

  She blew out a breath. “Nothing’s ever easy, is it? I need to get in that bag.”

  He set it down and aimed the light so she could see what she was searching for. Benjamin Gorder hadn’t had much in the way of lock-picking equipment in his toolbox, but he’d had paper clips. If she needed more than that, she was losing her touch. But just in case she’d overestimated her skills, she’d brought the older man’s hacksaw.

  It took longer than it should have, but a few minutes later she had the padlock open and out of the hasp. She took one more look around before pulling the door open. The hinges opened without a sound.

  “Someone keeps these well-oiled,” she murmured. It took more effort than it should have to step into the small building. Dev’s light didn’t do much more than punch a hole in the darkness within. The open door behind them helped marginally.

  She took a couple steps farther inside. The center was taken up by a huge stone vault, in which, she assumed, was Ashton’s casket. She had the caustic thought that his wives were probably buried somewhere in pine boxes. But nothing so simple for the big man himself.

  Ramsey stepped out of the beam so she could look at Dev. “Only one hiding place in here.” And she was slightly queasy at the thought of moving aside that lid. Sticking her hand inside.

  �
��Unless there’s a loose stone somewhere. An opening at the base of the vault itself.” Dev got on his hands and knees to look. He almost managed to hide the hiss of pain the action cost him.

  “For Godsakes, get up.” Concern had her rounding the vault to go to him. Until a shadow moved across the door. “Stay down!”

  “Just like a woman. Can’t make up her mind.”

  Ramsey brought the shotgun up in one smooth movement but was blinded by the light Rollins shone in her face. When she stepped out of the beam, she saw the sheriff holding a light that could have been the twin of Dev’s in one hand. The S&W he’d aimed at her earlier was in the other.

  “Ramsey, Ramsey, Ramsey.” He tutted. “So predictable. After our little conversation, I imagined exactly where you’d go next.”

  “You have a better imagination than I do. Can’t say I’d pictured what you looked like in a gray wig.” Coupled with whatever he’d rubbed on his eyebrows, the shapeless flannel shirt, and suspenders, the getup added at least fifteen years to his appearance.

  Rollins set the light on the floor at his feet, the gun never once wavering from her. Stay down, Dev, she pled silently as she inched along the wall, keeping the sheriff in her sites. Just one more minute. Just until I can . . .

  The next moment Dev dove at Rollins’s feet, but the man was waiting for him. He heaved a kick at his side, and Ramsey heard a sickening crack.

  “Now that didn’t have to happen, son.” Mark’s voice was reproving. “Sounds like you mighta had something loosened up in there already. But I don’t like that you’re takin’ this li’l bitch’s side over your family. That just isn’t right.”

  “This is between the two of us, Rollins.” She hoped her desperation didn’t leak into her voice. “Dev has nothing . . .”

  “He shouldn’t have had anythin’ to do with it. This is on you, Ramsey. All I did was invite him home as an ace in the hole. If things got too warm, well who better to point the finger at than Lucas Rollins’s son.”

  Dev raised his head slowly up to face his cousin’s. “My mama said she called his family that night. The night they had a fight and he started drinkin’.”

  “That’s right. She called my daddy.”

  Disbelief filled her. “He set up his own brother that night? Framed him for Jessalyn’s death?”

  “Daddy saw a chance to get rid of that old bitch and shut her slanderous mouth for good. Her slut of a daughter got exactly what was comin’ to her, but she wouldn’t let go with her vicious talk. It could’ve cost him the election. Lucas was a sacrifice.” The fervency in his voice sent a chill spiraling down Ramsey’s spine. “In the Bible, Abraham was willing to give up his own son. Daddy gave up his brother. God’s will had to continue. And that kind of reputation is hard to beat, a man willin’ to see justice done, even when it implicates his own family. Got him reelected, too.”

  Mark gave Dev’s foot a nudge with his boot. “Get on up here, son. You know I was hopin’ involvin’ you wasn’t goin’ to be necessary. Always loved you like a brother.”

  “Given your family’s idea of loyalty, that’s hardly comforting. Stay down, Dev.” She knew exactly what Rollins was planning. And once he had Dev as a human shield, their chances diminished greatly.

  She wished like hell Rollins hadn’t taken her gun. Even Dev couldn’t be sure when the shotgun had last been fired. What if it malfunctioned? What if the shells were too old?

  Her thoughts fragmented at Rollins’s next words. “I swear if you don’t get up here, I’ll shoot the bitch where she stands. It’s not the way she needs to die. In a state of impurity. But if that’s what I have to do, that’s on you.”

  “No!”

  But Dev was already rising, slowly, painfully, to his feet. He had time to send her one glance, take one step, before Rollins pulled him in front of him, one arm around his neck.

  And then he pressed the gun against Dev’s temple. “Put down the gun, Ramsey. You’re not that good.”

  Never surrender your weapon. How many times had Raiker drilled that into them? Never leave yourself completely defenseless.

  “You don’t know how good I am, Mark. It’s been a long time since we worked together.”

  “But you haven’t changed. You’re a godless whore. I only wish I’d taken the opportunity to purify you when I had the chance. Too bad the red mist didn’t choke the life out of you back in the woods. The way it almost did to me.”

  The way the man was rambling, she wondered if he’d suffered a complete break from reality. But Dev was trying to get her attention. His gaze fixed on hers then on the floor at his feet. She frowned, uncomprehending.

  “Took some liberties with Sancrosanctity’s casting out ceremonies, didn’t you?” Was Dev signaling he was going to distract Rollins some way? “Wonder what the rest of your cult would think about you raping and killing women on your own. Like that woman in DC. I’ll bet you were at a conference there and just couldn’t resist going hunting.”

  “God is channeling in me. Through me.” She winced when she saw him pressing the gun harder against Dev’s head. “I’m the elder of the church now. Like my daddy and granddaddy were before me. I don’t have to wait for the group’s decision. They don’t need to be part of every castin’ out ceremony.”

  No, he couldn’t wait. Because the taste of it had gotten in his blood. And the church-sanctioned ceremonies of rape and murder had left him craving more.

  Ramsey didn’t have a clear shot. She cocked her head, trying to find a better angle. Dev’s eyes widened for a moment.

  A split second later, he let his head loll to the side and went limp in Rollins’s arms, his weight pulling the man off balance. She had a split second before the sheriff recovered. Turned the gun. Brought it up . . .

  Ramsey fired. The sound reverberated in the small enclosure, deafening her. She was aware of Dev falling to one side. Rollins to another. She dove and squeezed off another shot.

  It was a moment before she recognized that the sheriff had fallen backward to land outside the door of the mausoleum. “Dev, are you hit?” She couldn’t take her eyes off Rollins as she advanced on the open doorway. But she was inwardly reeling in horror at what might have just happened. “Answer me, dammit!” Panic surged, threatening to drown her. “Are you hit! Damn you, you better not be dead.”

  She stood over Rollins, weapon ready. But he was no longer a threat. He’d never be a threat again. The old shotgun had blasted most of his face away.

  “Well, I guess I’m not dead if I can still hear you yellin’ at me.”

  Her knees went boneless. Turning, she walked into his arms. Felt them tighten around her. “I was afraid I’d hit you. Or that he had. . . .”

  “He was aimin’ at you for a while there. Gotta say that gave me a few bad moments.” She couldn’t tell which of them was trembling more.

  Gently, he took the gun out of her hand. “Let’s put this down, sugar. It’s all over now.”

  She nodded against his chest, let her eyes slide shut in one brief moment of giddy relief. “Yeah. It’s over.”

  Chapter 25

  Ramsey stood next to Dev at the edge of Ashton’s Pond, watched the divers and dredgers at work. “Some people need to get new priorities.” She was referring to the small cluster standing well back of the police tape holding signs protesting the work being done. “Who the hell cares about saving some spotted toad when we’ve got bodies to bring up?”

  She heard the humor in his voice when he answered. “Well . . . nature lovers, I guess.”

  “Nature’s overrated.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” She turned as she heard Adam Raiker’s voice.

  The uneven terrain had to be hell on his leg. But as usual, there was no flicker of expression on the man’s face. She noticed more than one sidelong glance in his direction from the law enforcement officers scattered around the area. But Ramsey figured their interest was motivated as much by his reputation as his appearance.

  His last c
ase with the Bureau had cost him dearly. A jagged scar bisected his throat. A black patch covered the eye he’d lost. And she’d never seen him walk without the cane he carried now. But no one who’d ever met him would pity him for the injuries he’d suffered. The man was too formidable.

  He came to a halt beside them. Ramsey made the introductions. “Devlin Stryker, my boss, Adam Raiker.”

  She was a bit surprised when Raiker accepted Dev’s outstretched hand. Was downright shocked when her boss’s good eye narrowed in thought. “Stryker. The parapsychologist. I’ve read a couple of your books. Intriguing.”

  Her expression must have given away her thoughts because Raiker raised his brows. “What? You didn’t think I could read?”